Chapter 114

Over time, she almost managed to convince even herself-she was starting to believe she truly was the daughter of some powerful, old-money family.
“Tell me, what do you think your friends would say if they found out this house is just a temporary place your family’s squatting in? That your folks shamelessly moved in, refused to leave for over a decade, and now are trying to claim it as their own? Would they still want to hang out with you, or would they just call your family a bunch of freeloaders?”
Delia’s face drained of color.
“You little brat, stop spouting nonsense!” Elder Mrs. Sinclair planted her hands on her hips and jabbed a finger at Anastasia, nearly hopping with outrage. “This house is ours! If you’re so sure it’s yours, show me the proof!”
Anastasia let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Proof? Please. Do I even need that?”
She glided over to the sofa, sat down with deliberate calm, and waved a hand. Her voice cut through the room, crisp and merciless.
“Do it. Throw them out-all of them.”
Hadn’t they just said, “What, you think you can throw us out?” Well, now she’d show them exactly what she could do.
Eight bodyguards moved at once.
“Anastasia! How dare you?!” The Sinclairs shrieked, stunned and wild-eyed.
When the bodyguards started hauling them up like unruly children, only then did the Sinclairs realize Anastasia was dead serious.
“I’m telling Aunt Nora about this!” Delia shrieked, kicking and squirming.
Julian’s bravado crumbled; his voice cracked with panic. “My sister is your mother! I’m your uncle! If you treat me like this, your father will never forgive you!”
Anastasia almost burst out laughing. “Uncle? You? Please.”
“As for Nora-she’s got some nerve calling herself my mother. None of you Sinclairs are fit for the part. You’re all ugly as sin, but you sure have a high opinion of yourselves!”
Her expression turned cold as ice. “Throw them out. And don’t be gentle-if they get hurt, that’s on me.”
The mansion erupted in screams and curses. Anastasia watched the Sinclairs’ disgrace with cool detachment.
She’d given them a chance. If they refused to take it, they had no one to blame but themselves.
“And toss their things out too,” she ordered curtly.
Then she paused, an idea striking her. “Except for the designer stuff. Don’t throw that away. Gather it all up-we’ll sell it secondhand and donate every penny. Consider it payback for what they owe me.”
No designer goods? Then what should they throw?
The bodyguards caught on quickly. They raided Elder Mrs. Sinclair’s storage room -despite her newfound wealth, the old woman had never kicked her habit of hoarding junk, refusing to part with a single used item.
Amusingly, all the luggage they’d dragged in when they first moved to the mansion years ago? Still piled up in a dusty corner.
“However you dragged it in, that’s how you’re taking it back out. That’s all you get!”
As for everything else the things they’d leeched off her family to buy-they had no right to take a thing. If she sold it all and donated the money, they’d be getting off easy.
Outside the mansion.
Elder Mrs. Sinclair landed hard on the driveway. Her usual tricks-screaming, wailing, putting on a show-meant nothing to the stony-faced bodyguards.
The commotion had already drawn a crowd-neighbors from Elysian Estates were gathering to watch.
Seeing the attention, Elder Mrs. Sinclair didn’t even bother getting up. She stayed planted on the ground, wailing at the top of her lungs, slapping her knees and kicking her legs for dramatic effect.
“Oh, heavens! Somebody help! They’re stealing my home!”
“They even threw an old woman like me out in the cold-are they trying to kill my whole family?!”